Children of the Muses (Percy Jackson x-reader)
by SociopathicAngel
Summary: You and your friends are demigods. Children of the nine muses, to be exact. When you aren't training at camp half-blood, you're all part of your school's marching band. It's a mostly peaceful existence. That is, when monsters aren't barging in on your practices. (So I was going through the files in my computer and I found the first fanfiction that I had ever written. Here it is!)


**(A/N: Look what IIIII FOUUUUNNNNDD! This is the FIRST fanfiction that I ever wrote! It was originally for a short story project in my sophomore year English class and at the time, I had no idea that fanfiction was even a thing. Apparently, neither did my teacher because she didn't even bat an eye and gave me full marks. I've revised it and turned it into an x-reader, but I decided to leave the names of my friends in where I used them as other Demigods.)**

It never ceases to amaze you that gods, demigods, and you still exist, despite the fact that it has been thousands of years since the Greek empire fell.

You and your friends are demigods, sons and daughters of the nine muses to be exact. During the summer, like most demigods, you go to camp half-blood, but during the school year, you lead a more normal life as part of the Johnston Marching Band. Your director is the muse Euterpe, who discovered many of the instruments that you play. While many of your practices are uneventful, one was anything but. May the muses help in the telling of this extraordinary tale.

The fog obscures everything but that that is illuminated by the stadium lights. You can't stop looking up, trying to catch a glimpse of the stars through the glare. It seems as if the moon is that only celestial body that exists in the vast blanket of space.

"So peaceful," you sigh.

"One more time! Let's go, let's go, let's go! We'll never get a good placement at championships if you keep moving at this pace!"

Well that didn't last long.

You run to follow Euterpe's instructions, embarrassed that you had been caught stargazing.

Arriving at your set, you go into "standby", your legs shoulder-width apart and your hands clasped in front of you as you wait for further instructions.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Something isn't right.

Your eyes are drawn to one side of the field, where the fog seems to solidify. All of a sudden, out from the gloom steps a big man in a grimy t-shirt and ripped jeans, nothing at all like the women that sometimes come during our practice to jog around the track or the kids who play with soccer balls near the end zones. He approaches the band and, stopping around 20 feet away, calls out to Euterpe.

"Is this the Johnston Marching Band?"

"It is," Euterpe answers, "What can I do for you?"

"You can become my dinner."

That escalated quickly.

The man seems to inflate like he's hooked up to a pump on steroids. Growing to almost twice his previous height, his muscles expand, and his clothing morphs into leather armor. Finally, a club appears in his hand and his eyes condenses into a single orb in the middle of his forehead.

The Cyclopes roars and is answered by a baying that comes from all around you. Out of the fog steps four more Cyclopes, as well as three hellhounds.

"We could smell your demigod stench for miles", it says with a grin that's more a baring of teeth than an expression of amusement.

Your drum major Greg returns the grin, barking out a " _De-_ tail, a- _ten_ -hut!" and as you all snap to attention, your instruments transform into weapons with flashes of bright light. Even the flags change, morphing into ten foot long spears called dorys.

"All right, circle up!", Euterpe bellows at a volume that is completely at odds with her slim physique.

The sousaphone player Sabrina and the drumline line up with their newly transformed round shields, clubs, and daggers, encircling you with their shields locked and weapons held ready to defend you while you all form a plan.

From inside the defenses, you can see the hellhounds charging in and engaging the defenders as the Cyclopes surround you and wait for them to weaken the shields.

"All right, here's what's going to happen." Euterpe gives all of you a series of rapid-fire instructions. She then turns to Greg.

"Did I miss anything?"

"Only the fact that we're going to kick some cyclops butt in 3... 2... 1!"

With a yell of defiance, the defense thrusts their shields outwards, giving you a second of respite so that you can charge, engaging the hellhounds head-on. As one rushes you, you throw yourself onto your back, kicking upwards with a force that sends it sailing overhead. Scrambling to your feet, you whirl to face it, but not fast enough.

With a howl, it breaks your grip on your sword, knocking you on your back. Reaching desperately for the weapon with one hand, you use the other to hold its snapping jaws at bay. You know that if you'll be dead in a matter of seconds if you don't kill it soon.

"I refuse to be die because of a stinking, flea-bitten mutt like you!" you scream in its face, but no matter how hard you try, you can't reach your sword.

' _This is it_ ,' you think, ' _This is the end._ '

Then, just as you feel as if you can't keep the hellhound away any longer, your friends decide to drop in.

Literally.

With a cartwheel that turns into a backflip, Michael lands on the monster's back, plunging his spear into its side as Kady and Max, with a very unlady-like declaration of what the hellhound can suck and a "Boom roasted!", simultaneously shoot arrows at point-blank range, plunging them through the hellhound's heart and out the other side, killing it instantly.

Heaving yourself to my feet, you see that all of the other hellhounds have been defeated.

With no time for more than a "Thanks guys!" you snatch up my sword as, with roars of rage, the Cyclopes advance, shaking the ground with their strides.

In the seconds before they reach you, you form another circle with the swords, spears, and shields on the outside and the archers on the inside.

With a war cry, you dodge a club, slashing your sword across a cyclops' shin. In your periphery, you see one double over, clutching his groin area as Max raises his bow to the sky, screaming "Get no-scoped, nerd!"

Chuckling, you turn back to the battle in front of you and… throw yourself to the ground, barely avoiding a club as it sweeps so closed to your head that it ruffles your hair. Using some choice curse words that would have made anyone's mother gasp, you leap to my feet and, working together with your fellow warriors, you slash at the cyclops' legs, causing it to fall to the ground with a loud thump. With a stab from a sword, it disintegrates into dust.

As soon as the dust starts to settle, we have to dodge out of the way as another cyclops comes stumbling into our midst, scattering our circle as it clutches it's eye and bellows in pain.

You can hear a faint "Get wrecked!" over the noise of the fighting as you almost get stepped on by the blinded cyclops.

Rolling your eyes, all you can think is, ' _Well, at least Max is having fun_.'

With its single eye not functioning, the cyclops is finished off quickly and the circle is hastily reformed.

You quickly glance around you, making sure that all of your fellow fighters are safe, and do a double-take.

Your sister is missing.

"Where's Hannah?", you yell, only to turn around and see her riding the remaining cyclops like a horse, the other two having been beaten moments ago.

"Some help, please?" she yells, dodging a searching hand as it tries to brush her off. For a moment, you wonder why she doesn't just plunge her dory straight into the cyclops, but then you realize that she has to use both hands to hold onto its twisting neck.

Greg takes one look at the situation and shouts, "Well? What are we waiting for?"

You all charge the Cyclopes, your director in the front with the rest of you just a short ways behind.

Euterpe leaps and scrambles up the Cyclopes, throwing your sister over her shoulder before jumping down to the ground as if it were a short hop instead of a 10 foot fall.

With Hannah safely on the ground, you all throw ourselves at the monster, slashing, stabbing, and shooting from all sides.

Max takes Hannah's place, climbing up the cyclopes' back and, leaping onto its head, screams, "Bop it!" as he plunges an arrow into the monster's scalp. He leaps off as the cyclops desperately swipes at the top of its head.

The rest of you close in and as soon as the cyclops hits the ground, Greg commands you all to stop. Motioning your sister forward, he says, "I have no idea how the squat you got up there in the first place, but that was the most impressive thing I've seen in a while, so you can do the honors."

Hannah stands over the monster and as she stabs it with her spear, it disappears into a yellow mushroom cloud of dust.

In the midst of congratulating each other, you all hear a yell from behind you.

"Hey!", Euterpe exclaims, "One monster attack is not an excuse to stand around and talk. No amount of distraction should distract you from your goal. Again! From the top!"

You grumble to yourself as you return to your set, your sword turning back into a flute, but you really can't complain.

After all, this was just another normal day in the life of a marching demigod.


End file.
